


I Wanna See Everything You're Made Of

by Neurotoxia



Category: Bleach
Genre: Communication Failure, Intimacy, M/M, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:02:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/pseuds/Neurotoxia
Summary: Not for the first time, Byakuya Kuchiki is given pause by his lieutenant’s behaviour. Renji has always been vexing to a degree, and not much of this effect has lessened the longer Byakuya has known him. Not even becoming intimate has allowed Byakuya to peel back all the layers Renji possesses, and there’s certainly more than Byakuya ever thought.
Relationships: Abarai Renji/Kuchiki Byakuya
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	I Wanna See Everything You're Made Of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gen (ryujinjakka)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryujinjakka/gifts).



> Happy Halloween, Gen! I hope you'll enjoy your gift – thank you for giving me the opportunity to write Bleach fic again, it's been a while!

Not for the first time, Byakuya Kuchiki is given pause by his lieutenant’s behaviour. Renji has always been vexing to a degree, and not much of this effect has lessened the longer Byakuya has known him. Not even becoming intimate has allowed Byakuya to peel back all the layers Renji possesses, and there’s certainly more than Byakuya ever thought.

Renji would bristle at being considered what he would think of as simple, when Byakuya actually finds it rather appealing. Infuriating at times, but appealing nevertheless.

Coming from Zaraki’s tutelage, Byakuya knew from the start Renji was most likely loud, bold, and brash, and so he had been, albeit more in looks than manner. Byakuya failed to examine it at the time, but Renji had bricked his personality behind simmering anger and yearning admiration. That had certainly changed after the whole ryoka debacle. They’d both emerged from their shells and came away better men for it.

Since the ryoka, the Espada, and the Quincy, Renji has steadily grown bolder around Byakuya, hesitation flaking off with every set of enemies overcome. He fulfils his duties without being told twice, never repeats a mistake, and does not hesitate to tell his captain when he genuinely disgarees. At this point, Renji is more of a second captain to the division than a lieutenant, and still, he sidesteps suggestions that he apply for a promotion to captaincy. Byakuya has heard the whispers that Renji is “pulling a Sasakibe” -- sometimes said with admiration and at other times derision. As for himself, Byakuya admires Renji for his loyalty, but is not sure that he is the one to deserve it to such a degree. Renji appears unconcerned. He said he’ll become a captain once there’s nothing left for him except that. Byakuya is far too relieved that he gets to keep Renji a while longer to argue that Renji has already exceeded any expectation the Gotei 13 could have of a vice-captain.

The progression from sneering animosity to grudging respect to genuine partnership and finally, to intimate relationship was swift by shinigami standards, and Byakuya recognises that his own poor impulse control was the culprit. Renji readily would have ploughed on for the next few centuries without ever letting on that his feelings for Byakuya were romantic in nature. By virtue of his upbringing, Renji is used to not getting what he wants or what he thinks he doesn’t deserve. Byakuya, on the other hand, is not. He is certainly adept at quelling his impulses and being a noble comes with its own set of restrictions, but the royka invasion has taught Byakuya above all that he should not continually sacrifice his own happiness and that of those around him at the altar of rules and propriety.

And yet, there seems to remain an invisible wall between them. It took Byakuya a while to figure it out, since Renji kept growing more assertive as his lieutenant, and even off duty he would speak more freely. In the privacy of their bedroom however, Renji behaves much differently than what Byakuya would have expected. Renji is meek, subservient almost, and not in the manner meant to entice a partner. He becomes almost an empty vessel, with no wants or needs of his own to voice and much less take. Byakuya expected Renji to be a vocal lover, at least to a degree, but there are hardly ever sounds coming from him. Had Renji not assured him several times that he very much wants to keep doing what they’re doing, Byakuya would think Renji is only enduring their encounters.

Byakuya would have been content to let the matter rest, presuming that this is simply how Renji behaves in bed, had he not come across the gaggle of vice-captains and seated officers that Renji often spends his free time with.

It‘s rather a chance encounter, for Byakuya never frequents these parts of the Rukongai. The head landscaper of the estate recently got injured while fulfilling his duties, and Byakuya saw fit to pay the recuperating man a visit and wish him a speedy recovery in person. His family has been in the Kuchiki family’s service for over four hundred years, so a personal visit from the head of the clan seemed appropriate. Ginrei had never missed a chance to remind Byakuya that appreciation for the staff would go a long way in preserving the family’s honour, and Byakuya has never seen a reason to doubt his grandfather’s wisdom on the matter.

And it is due to this chance event that Byakuya finds himself stepping from his landscaper‘s doorstep onto a narrow street and hearing familiar voices drifting from the izakaya right next door, its screens opened all the way to let in some of the cooler evening air. The _noren_ sway gently in the breeze, obscuring the view, but he is sure nevertheless that he picks out the voices of several vice-captains, Matsumoto Rangiku and Hisagi Shuuhei chief among them, as well as the Eleventh‘s Maradame Ikkaku and Ayasegawa Yumichika. It is only due to his close relationship with Renji that Byakuya knows all of the names and voices right away — Renji speaks of them so often that Byakuya couldn’t help but start paying attention to them.

He is just about to launch into shunpo to go home when the mention of Renji‘s name makes him halt on instinct.

“You think Abarai-kun is seeing someone? He hasn’t been to a nomikai in ages,” Matsumoto says with a distinct tipsy whine in her voice.

“Hasn’t said anything,” Maradame grumbles in reply.

“He’s always been kind of cagey about that sort of thing,” Izuru Kira muses.

“But not about whether he’s just seeing someone,” Mastumoto chimes in. “Sure, he’s a gentleman. Doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Which is a shame,” Ayasegawa says, “since he’s pretty spectacular in the sack.”

There’s sputters coming from Hisagi. “You..?”

“Problem, Hisagi-fukutaichō?”

“But aren’t you and Ikkaku-san…?”

“We like to mix it up,” Ayasegawa hums. “And I really wanted to see all the tattoos. I’ve got some questions about yours, too, by the way.”

“Oooh,” Mastumoto chirps while Hisagi continues a range of strangled sounds. “Don’t be a tease now. What’s he like?”

“He knows how to make use of that bulk,” Ayasegawa answers. “And he makes some spectacular sounds when he comes. But since Renj is a gentleman, I’ll be one, too, so that’s all you’re getting. ”

Byakuya tears himself away from the conversation before he’s being seen lurking outside the building and launches into shunpo to create some distance, touching down on a roof in a dark, silent corner not far from the barracks.

It almost surprises him, but Byakuya is not jealous, hearing of Renji’s past tryst with the Eleventh’s Fifth Seat. At their age, past relationships are expected, and Byakuya places absolute trust in Renji’s loyalty. However, Ayasegawa’s words nestle in a different part of Byakuya’s brain where he can’t just brush them aside.

It stands to reason that one is bound to be different with every partner, and Byakuya himself can attest to this when he considers being with Hisana in comparison to being with Renji. How could it not be different? But, says the niggling voice lingering in his ear, there is difference in personalities and there is complete obliteration of any personality. 

Renji‘s behaviour veers too close to the latter.

* * *

Byakuya sits on his new information for a while, unsure how or even _if_ he should bring up the matter in a more direct way. It could do more harm than good, but so it could if he continues to allow the worry to fester in the far corners of his mind. He cares more for Renji already than he thought possible. Byakuya thought he’d grown out of plunging himself into infatuations and desire headfirst after meeting Hisana. But Renji has a way of upsetting Byakuya’s expectations, and so the idea of anything damaging their new bond is more alarming than Byakuya cares to admit.

And so, late one night, sequestered in Renji’s modest quarters, Byakuya can’t help but bring it up. 

“Renji, are you truly enjoying our…” Byakuya pauses to choose the right word. It seems early to say relationship, but arrangement is too sterile and businesslike, while entanglement gives it the air of something shameful and illicit. “...time together,” is what he settles on. Which isn’t quite right either but more neutral nevertheless. 

“Me?” Renji asks with eyes wide and shoots upright. “Of course. I like spending time with you, taichō!”

Byakuya sighs to himself, and moves to rest on his elbows, yet to cure Renji of the habit to call him by his rank even when they’re alone and off the clock. 

“It is less about spending time,” Byakuya presses on and grasps Renji’s wrist in his hand, stroking his thumb over Renji’s pulse point. “I’m referring to sex.”

He nearly stumbles over the last word, not used to being so forthright about these matters. It isn’t something that is spoken of in the spheres he normally occupies. Too crass are such discussions for nobility for him to ever have been encouraged to talk about it. Byakuya has never received any guidance in navigating his or his partner’s desires. To the heir of a noble clan, all that matters is procreation. Byakuya has very little vocabulary and even less grace for this conversation, but he has long since learned that Renji appreciates Byakuya being frank, not least because he knows it doesn’t come naturally to Byakuya. Renji has learned to read between the lines of what Byakuya is saying better than most, but this isn’t the time for interpretation. 

“Taichō – Byakuya,” Renji corrects, no doubt seeing the ghost of a frown across Byakuya’s features. “I told you before. I do. If I‘ve done something to upset you—”

Byakuya stops the barrage with a motion of his hand, unwilling to see Renji trip all over himself out of fear that he did anything wrong.

“You haven’t,” Byakuya states and sighs. He sits up all the way so he’s face to face with Renji. “Quite the opposite.”

Renji‘s brows knit in confusion. “I don‘t follow.”

“I barely know you‘re there, when we‘re together,” Byakuya says and tips up Renji‘s chin with a light press of his fingers. “It is rather unlike you.”

“How‘s that bad?”

Byakuya decides to pass on commenting on all the problems with that particular statement.

“I’m merely wondering,” he says, releasing Renji’s chin in favour of idly playing with the ends of Renji’s flaming red hair, a few strands having come loose from the braid he keeps it in most nights.

“We’re just...never alone, you know.”

Byakuya quirks an eyebrow and looks around the empty room.

“Not like that,” Renji sighs. “If you’re staying in my quarters, there’s Division members up and about in the barracks at all times of the night. Your manor is overflowing with staff. And it’s not like we can just rent a room in an inn somewhere without word of that getting out. We’re not exactly low profile.”

“Neither Division members nor staff would barge into a room uninvited.”

“No, but they could hear us,” Renji says and eyes the shoji doors separating his quarters from the corridors and the small courtyard beyond. “At the manor, your staff definitely would. They’re never more than ten paces from you. You have a freakin’ night attendant.”

The captain’s and vice-captain’s quarters are designed to be away from the main barracks, but the night patrols watching the grounds and corridors of course pass occasionally. And while it is certainly true that there’s always staff close by at the manor, Byakuya fails to see why it matters.

“Renji, I appreciate your concern for discretion, but it is misplaced. Some of the family staff have been in the clan’s employ for centuries. They will hardly care that as a grown man I have company at night.”

“They might not care that you have company, but they might care who that company is.”

“Renji…” Byakuya starts to refute, but Renji cuts across him, something he only does when he needs to speak before words fail him.

“I don’t want to embarrass you.”

The undercurrent of defeat in Renji’s voice stumps Byakuya for a few moments. It’s not that he expected Renji to not be keenly aware of their difference in station, nor that Renji has at any point been ignorant to the fact that for the time being, their relationship needs to be kept secret. But those are outside factors, circumstances imposed upon them.

“Renji, there are many things that force us to engage in this cloak and dagger routine,” Byakuya says and grasps the other’s hands for emphasis, “but a fear of embarrassment is not one of them. I am not ashamed of wanting to be with you.”

“Oh…” Renj says quietly, like he honestly never considered that Byakuya doesn’t think him an embarrassment or unsavoury secret. Byakuya is filled with a sudden need to rain Senbonzakura down on anyone that ever made Renji feel lacking. The irony that he himself deserves some of those razor sharp cuts is not beyond him. He has been trying to make up for that, and vows to do better.

“Promise you’ll try to remember that,” Byakuya replies, knowing Renji well enough to be certain that it’ll take some time before the words will take hold.

* * *

Byakuya gives Renji time to come to terms with the idea, reevaluate his feelings and behaviour, and Byakuya can see that Renji tries. Renji is not one to back down from a challenge, but it remains a challenge nevertheless. More and more, Byakuya thinks that a catalyst is needed, one true opportunity for Renji not to feel watched or threatened.

An afternoon of contemplation in the gardens and library finally supplies him with an idea that has no chance of hurting Renji or him should it not work out as desired. He consults the papers in the family’s records and ventures out himself for preparations, keeping in mind the spirit of having his plans known to as few people as possible, even in the vaguest terms. He informs his head of staff that he will not return to the manor in the evening and leaves it at that, before departing to the Division to a day of efficient work.

Renji grouses under his breath about taichō being in a productive mood this morning, and Byakuya doesn’t reprimand him for the sarcasm. He rarely ever does, these days. 

Byakuya puts down his pen and ink a full hour before the end of the work day, all of his and some of Renji’s share done with no plans to start on tomorrow’s. Renji’s reaction is plainly confused, and admittedly out of character for Byakuya, who chooses not to explain himself before he has Renji where he wants him.

“Renji, with me,” he says while he watches Renji reluctantly put a signature stamp on his last form, attempting to draw out the process. There is never a lack of forms or reports, and Byakuya not touching any of his non-urgent work must no doubt be circumspect to Renji.

Byakuya sees the puzzling expression on Renji’s face, but since they’re still in the office, he doesn’t question the command.

“Follow, and try to keep up,” Byakuya says once they’ve reached the outside of the barracks, launching south without waiting for Renji to ask the obvious question.

He only hears his vice-captain curse before he goes after Byakuya.

* * *

Even with shunpo they’re travelling for some time, and Byakuya senses Renji nearly losing track of him more than once, but they finally touch down in a far flung corner of the realm, walking distance from a small lake and right in a dense forest. All in possession of the Kuchiki estate, though mostly untouched. The only sign of civilization as far as the eye reaches is the house in front of them. Small and fairly simple for a property of nobles, it is still well-made and cared for with great regard. Originally built as a retreat for the tenth head of the clan, who liked to coop up in solitude to compose poetry, the building has largely fallen out of use in more recent times. Too remote to be for general living, even for minor members of the clan. Byakuya himself hasn’t been here since he was a youth, never having seen the need to exile himself to the bottom of a mountain range.

Renji takes in the sights around him, eyes flickering from the dense trees around them to the house they’re approaching. The courtyard is well-kept, the plants and grounds cared for by one of the Kuchiki’s groundskeepers who make their rounds among the lesser used properties and seeing to it they remain presentable and ready to be inhabited at a moment’s notice.

“Taichō…”

“We’re off duty, Renji,” Byakuya says and lets them into the main entrance.

It is unmistakable that no one lives in the house, and that it hasn’t been visited in a long time, despite the interior being as spotless as the exterior. Too spotless, really. Even in a household as rigidly run as his back at the manor, there are signs of inhabitation. There aren’t any here. The furnishings are functional, and the few pieces of decoration so inoffensive, they were not picked for any but the broadest of general tastes.

“What are we doing here, Byakuya?” Renji tries again.

“In a moment,” Byakuya says and lights some of the lanterns around the room. It’s not quite dark yet, but the forest outside swallows much of the remaining glow of the receding sun.

When Byakuya turns around, Renji looks at him expectantly, and now is as good a time as any to let him know. Byakuya got him here without much fanfare after all and he does not expect Renji to turn back and go home.

“The property is empty,” Byakuya explains. “It has been in the family for generations, but never a favourite unless you needed quiet. My father used to recuperate here after bouts of illness. It hasn‘t been used much since. No servants live here permanently.“

“So…?”

“I thought it would be good to have a night truly to ourselves”, Byakuya says, stepping closer. “So I took the liberty of presuming we would stay here tonight and return to the division tomorrow morning.“

“In a horror movie, this would be a terrible setup,” Renji chuckles and looks out the shoji doors leading into a second interior yard, the trees of the forest visible over the top of the courtyard walls.

“What‘s a horror movie?” Byakuya asks, confused. He has heard of movies from Rukia, though he doesn’t quite see the point of a movie when the theatre exists.

“Nevermind,” Renji laughs. His tense posture relaxes. “So, just us, huh?”

“Just us and a few acres of forest,” Byakuya agrees.

He sees the understanding click into place on Renji’s face. No servant or shinigami even close to the vicinity. A Hell Butterfly would find them, if necessary, but Byakuya has no plans to set foot back into Seireitei for anything short of Aizen Sōsuke himself materialising in the main square. 

“And how do you propose we spend the time?” Renji asks, no doubt having caught up with what Byakuya has been thinking of. As he’s speaking, he removes Zabimaru from his waist, resting it on the stand by the door below Senbonzakura. The display never fails to move something somewhere deep within Byakuya, their zanpakutō resting alongside one another.

“Naked, preferably,” Byakuya replies and tugs Renji close by the front of his shikaushō.

It gets a blush out of Renji, who certainly had similar thoughts, but didn’t expect Byakuya to state them so plainly.

“If you’re amenable,” Byakuya adds.

“If I’m—yes, I‘m _amenable_ ,” Renji sputters like he cannot believe he’s being asked the obvious.

“I have one request,” Byakuya says, untying Renji‘s obi all the same, since he’s reasonably certain it’ll be granted.

“A request?” Renji asks, and carefully pushes the haori off Byakuya’s shoulders, leaving it in a crumpled pool around Byakuya’s feet. The Captain Commander would have conniptions at the sight of a haori in a careless heap, but Byakuya has never had much regard for the garment. He stands by calling it cheap to Yamamoto’s face.

“Yes,” Byakuya replies, distracted for a moment by Renji’s hands dipping inside his gi and kosode and caressing his chest.

“What‘s that?”

“It‘s simple,” Byakuya says and tugs Renji even closer by the back of his neck, their lips a hair’s breadth apart. “Let go.”

And Renji does.

Any other time, Byakuya would have liked to take inventory and analyse why this simple change of venue is what untangles the knot in Renji’s brain. All he can think right now is that if this is what it takes, he’ll come back to the deserted house as often as required. Until Renji feels comfortable giving all of himself to Byakuya no matter where.

“Please tell me there’s a futon and bedding,” Renji groans while he strips Byakuya without fanfare.

“To your left,” Byakuya hisses between bites to the column of Renji’s neck and is promptly herded towards the shoji doors.

Byakuya opens them one-handed behind his back, nearly tumbling inside the room because Renji picked exactly that moment to sink his hands into Byakuya’s underwear. When Byakuya visited the house earlier, he had the foresight to already prepare the futon and bedding for the ideal circumstance they’d be otherwise occupied and loathe to fuss with bedding.

Ayasegawa‘s remark about Renji using his bulk replays in Byakuya‘s mind when Renji crowds in on him. While Renji is tall, he doesn‘t usually loom. Renji is good at looking non-threatening despite being taller and wider in the shoulders than many shinigami. Byakuya doesn‘t quite know how he does it, but then Renji goes into battle and he draws himself up and seemingly uncurls into his full size to batter his opponents. It appears to be the same in the bedroom, and for a hysterical moment, Byakuya wonders about the parallels between the two.

His train of thought is derailed by being bodily deposited onto the futon, leaving him to collect himself while Renji rids himself of the rest of his shikaushō. Byakuya feels a little hazy over the rapid pace, used to the slow buildup he usually sets in hopes to coax responses out of Renji. Now it’s looking like he might be outpaced, and that would be a terrible shame. He hasn’t come here to trade places with Renji.

Byakuya shakes the already loose kenseikan from his hair, and clears his thoughts with it. Then, he snatches Renji–who had been just on his way to join Byakuya on the futon–from mid-crouch and drags him into a searing kiss. His fingers are firmly weaved into Renji’s bright red hair, removing the tie to finally have it fall unhindered around Renji’s face.

Byakuya has had ample time to explore Renji’s body in the past, he’s touched every bit of skin, traced every tattoo with his fingers all across, found many spots that made Renji whimper and sigh. Still, he feels a new urgency to let his hands roam over Renji’s battle hardened form, spurred on by Renji’s own bold explorations of Byakuya, so different from the previous hesitant touches.

“Can‘t believe you found an empty house just to fuck me in private,” Renji rasps, laughing between kisses.

“The house was already there,” Byakuya snorts. “I merely put it to a different use than my predecessors.”

“Rebel,” Renji says with a feral grin that‘s all teeth and presses his palms against Byakuya‘s chest.

Byakuya gives, allowing Renji to push him on his back and climb atop him, knees splayed on either side of Byakuya’s hips. For once, Renji seems determined to take his pleasure shamelessly, already reaching for the oils Byakuya left beside the futon as part of his preparations.

Renji gives Byakuya’s erection a few slick strokes with an oiled palm, all the while squirming and gasping as he fingers himself. Were he less overwhelmed, Byakuya would like to take the time and watch Renji pleasure himself – and perhaps in the future, Renji might grant him the indulgence.

However, there is no time to lose himself in that train of thought, because Renji lifts himself up and then sinks back down on Byakuya’s cock – an act that simultaneously takes forever and goes much too fast. They both groan in unison, and Byakuya digs his fingers into Renji’s hips for purchase. The fact that he has been inside Renji many times already is inconsequential, it suddenly feels as new and uncharted as the first.

Then, Renji starts moving, and it’s as different as it started. This isn‘t a Renji who‘s craving and waiting for whatever Byakuya picks to offer him this time, balking at anything that might suggest an eagerness. No, this Renji is not just demanding his pleasure, he‘s _taking_ it. 

All Byakuya can do is hold on and give in kind.

* * *

When Renji comes, he–for lack of a better word– _howls_ , before folding in on himself like a house of cards in a strong breeze, sagging against Byakuya’s chest first and then rolling off to the side. Renji tucks himself against Byakuya’s sweat-slicked side and rests his head on Byakuya’s shoulder. Their hard pants as they’re trying to get air back into their lungs is the only sound until Byakuya breaks the silence.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Abarai-fukutaichō,” Byakuya utters, his commanding tone a shadow of its usual self while he’s still trying to catch his breath.

Renji snickers at the use of the title. “I apologise, taichō.”

“See that it does not happen again,” Byakuya orders, a smirk playing at his lips.

The next time that Renji commands Zabimaru to _howl_ , Byakuya will have to fight a blush in public for the first time in decades when it happens, having come to a new and hitherto undiscovered understanding of the word and sound.

Still, Byakuya can‘t find it in himself to care, just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Mastodon's song "Show Yourself".


End file.
